


Defying Gravity

by IsleofSolitude



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsleofSolitude/pseuds/IsleofSolitude
Summary: Because what you're fated to feel is not always what you feel most. Datherine, Delena, Amara.Originally written and posted on ff.net in Jan, 2013.





	Defying Gravity

**Author's Note:**

> This was written during season, what, 5? When I decided to play with "doppelgangers are drawn together" but what if they weren't exactly living their best life just because of it?

_Something has changed within me_   
_Something is not the same_   
_I'm through with playing by the rules_   
_Of someone else's game_   
_Too late for second-guessing_   
_Too late to go back to sleep_   
_It's time to trust my instincts_   
_Close my eyes and leap!_

**Defying Gravity**

* * *

 

Katherine Pierce has been on the run for a long time. She has been chased by many men, but rarely has let herself be caught (and oh, she pushes away the thought of home, of kisses in the water, pebbles underfoot, and regrets and tiny toes she’ll never tickle). At times, she hates the constant flight, the blurring scenery of her life as she does her best to stay one, two, a thousand steps ahead of monsters (and yes she is one too but she is not always monstrous). She hates the panicked flutter of her heart when she miscalculates and shoves down the whimper of regret when she makes a hard choice (the regret is silent nowadays, because she chooses herself always, and she will not be guilty for surviving).

Katerina Petrova delights in traveling. Everything is new, and refreshing. The times change, but human nature remains the same. The words differ, but they drive people to tears and give them hope, they seduce and comfort and crush.

And so she runs across the world, flows through time, and arrives at a quaint town named Mystic Falls.

It is a lovely breather in her journey. There are other vampires (And Pearl is there, Pearl who is the only one in the world Katherine would consider a friend), and so many tasty humans. She can take her time here.

It helps that the Salvatore brothers are here. She had picked a family at random to stay with, and she lucked out this time. Stefan is a perfect gentleman, and though he believes her to be a proper lady, he does not go overboard with the chivalry.

Damon was a surprise. She had known there was a brother, but he was supposed to be away indefinitely. At that moment, she had already started planning her seduction of Stefan, but seeing him there with his brother, she felt something in her shift, just for a moment, and when she took her next breath, the feeling was gone.

Pursuing Damon wasn’t a challenge. She was upfront with him, and he with her. She was beautiful, he was handsome, and there was no reason to not find places to be alone together. So while she slowly eased Stefan closer and closer to wanting her, she and Damon dallied in hidden places, places that he had found growing up and was eager to share with her (the well in the garden, the grove of trees that smelled of wildflowers, the corner of the house where they kissed in the dark).

She had not meant to reveal what she was, but that day she had not had a chance to feed, and Frederick, among others, had driven her to the limit of her patience. She returned to her room and Damon had been waiting for her. Moments later, between kissing and groping and the removal of clothing, she (did not lose control, Katerina Petrova never gives into her desires) bit into his neck and moaned.

He drew back with a hiss of pain, and she let him. He brought a hand to his neck and then back down, staring the blood on his fingers with confusion. Letting her features react to the smell of blood, she whispered, “Damon.”

His eyes widened as he caught sight of her, taking a small, involuntary step away from her. “What—” He put his hand back to the neck, trying to stop the bleeding. “Katherine—” He was struggling to put the pieces together, she could tell. Deciding to have some fun, she reached out and took his hand, bringing it to her mouth and licking the blood from his fingers slowly, kissing his palm as she finished. He let her, swallowing hard at her kiss.

She nuzzled his palm, looking at him between her lashes. “Is there a problem, Damon?” She didn’t mind if she had to compel him (she could be cruel but it was more convenient if they weren’t afraid), but she was allowed to be amused until then.

Suddenly his handed shifted, sliding back into her hair and tightening. He pulled her forward and kissed her (as if checking to see if she was real, as if wondering if she was still there, as though she was something precious), his other hand sliding around her back to secure her to him. He pulled back enough to let his brilliant blue eyes search hers, questioningly, and he licked his lips, sharing her breathe. “No…no problem.”

Her breath caught, and only centuries of practice kept her from letting her shock showing on her features. She let her hands drift to his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones as she smiled and kissed him hard. Maybe she would let Damon catch her, at least once.

* * *

 

Elena Gilbert lived for moments like these.

The past two years had seen plenty of moments, from absolutely wonderful memories (waterfall hikes, road trips, nights with Caroline and Bonnie where they laughed until they cried) to moments that will give her nightmares until the end of her (possibly very long) existence (the water trickling into her lungs, Jenna’s eyes at the end, the moment she realized she would never hear Jeremy’s voice again). She had a diary full of moments that had happened in her life.

But curled up on the couch, the sound of rain outside and the crackle of the fire inside, snuggling against Damon, his hands absently making patterns on her back, these were the moments that she drew strength from.

Earlier, Damon had cooked for her and Jeremy, and then she watched them play video games (Jeremy lost, which delighted Damon to no end) until Jeremy left, claiming to be bored. Elena and Jeremy had only been living with Damon for a month, and yet the three of them had quickly fallen into a routine (like they had last summer, when she would wake up and find Damon making breakfast for her and Jeremy, and a hangover drink for Alaric) and she was surprised to find that she really wasn’t more surprised at how well they fit.

However, part of her still kept wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. Too many things were up in the air. College application, missing Bonnie, the fallout from all the crazy that happened the last few months, the pit in her stomach when she thought of Stefan…

Nuzzling into Damon’s chest, she stopped herself. She didn’t need to worry, not right now. She just wanted to stay here, just like this, and let the universe fall away. She was warm and safe, and happy.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, her boyfriend (she was never going to get tired of calling him that!) shifted slightly so that Elena wasn’t in danger of falling to the floor. She smiled into his chest and curled her fingers into the hem of his shirt, her smile growing as his chuckle vibrated through his chest.

She was wrong. She didn’t live for moments like this. Moments like this were when she felt most like she was actually alive.

* * *

 

For two thousand years, her mind had been slowly splintered apart. Her memories had melded with dozens, hundreds, thousands of others, and all she could do was grasp a fragment of herself and hold it to her, fighting against the storm.

She was Amara, and she had loved, and she had been loved. She had betrayed a friend, and she had been hurt for it. She had birthed a daughter (the wind screamed when she thought of a coos and nights of crying, of soothing songs, so she just stopped remembering), and she disliked the pink of roses.

Did she think before she stabbed her lover (they betrayed together, she betrayed him, she loved him what is in her head?) or was it after, when the cure flowed into her heart (that shriveled, cursed, amazing organ) and she was stopped by black hair and blue eyes (he would never bow to the wind, even as it screamed at her, even as she bowed her back and stumbled along).

Her shadow self scared her, it wasn’t natural, it was her face, stolen, passed through time (but then her daughter must have survived, and her heart was lighter for just a moment) and manipulated by nature (always must be a balance, always a price to pay)

And even though he had gagged her and made her ride in the dark (always in the dark, always hiding from screams and cries), he made the noise stop. So she followed him (Damon, demon, contradictions), listened to him explain things (so much to learn, this button does this, don’t touch that, stay out of my room, I mean it this time) to her and to the others who came and went.

He was rough, but not cruel, and the storm quieted when he was there. And she couldn’t explain why, but she had a feeling he affected her shadow self similarly. Amara didn’t know why, and she didn’t want to think, because that lead to hurricanes and tornadoes and oh god who and what was real…

So she followed him, and he let her.


End file.
